Tabula Rasa
by Bender Alpha
Summary: A clean slate. Many people wish for one. Few ever get one. Will's slate was just fine, and yet a clean one is thrust upon him. Dead and burned to ashes, Will is reborn into a world of fantastical, reality bending creatures as an infant, with all the memories of his past life. Now, he only wants the answer to one question: did his twin sister make it in, too?


I was warm. I was hot. I was boiling! I couldn't stand it! My heartbeat pounded in my ears! I was suffocating! The heat would boil me alive! I had to get out! Out!

But I was already moving. Something was pushing me from beneath. Suddenly, I breached the surface and could see.

"Chansey!"

"That's it! Here he comes."

_… What?_

Something was shoved in my face, and then the blockage was sucked out of my nose and throat as I was pulled from the boiling confines into the frigid air. I sneezed and coughed, shocked by the suddenness of it. But then, something lifted me up. There was a whirl of colors, and I was gently placed on something warm and soft. A vast expanse of pale pinkish-tan, my head partially cushioned on a hill of the stuff. Then a blanket was laid over me, and my mind finally processed what I was looking at.

A human woman's breast. It was as big as my head, or bigger. Beyond that, past the edge of the blanket, I saw a gargantuan woman in a surgeon's garb, handing surgical tools to a whitish-pink blob with fleshy tentacles draped across its sides.

"Sey chansey," the blob chirped.

_What the actual hell?_

I tried to push myself away, but I was slimy and my limbs felt like they were made of Jello. A massive hand draped over me and a woman, exhausted and weak, spoke just above my head. I felt her voice thrumming through the skin below me.

"Hello, Aiden. Welcome to the world."

I lolled my head around until I could get a look at the woman's face, nearly a moon compared to mine. She was flushed and sweating, but not unattractive, and as I lay atop her, I pondered.

_Aiden? Is that my name? No. No, it was… what was it? Why can't I remember? What in the blue fuck is going on?_

"He's so… big," I heard a man say, his voice thick with emotion. I turned my head and found another gargantuan face, this one close, whiskered with a brown beard, and tearing up. The man put a finger forward, almost as big as my arm, and it was all I could do to stop the finger from approaching. The man laughed.

"He's strong, too!"

"Good," the surgeon stated, looking me over. "He looks healthy. He might not be crying, but he's at least breathing steadily. Let's see…"

She pinched the skin of my upper arm, and I cried out, devolving into another coughing fit.

"Good! Reflex irritation is fine, skin is healthy and pink, heart rate…" She held a stethoscope bigger than my hand up to my chest, and I tried to squirm away from the icy cold metal. A few seconds later, it was pulled away. "Just over one-twenty. We'll want to keep an eye on his breathing, but other than that, he seems to be in perfect health."

There were relieved sighs from both the man and the woman I lay on. Meanwhile, my mind reeled. It was too much. The sensations were too real. For all intents and purposes, I was a newborn baby.

_I… I can't be. But this is… real. This is happening. I can feel everything. And there's a goddamned **POKEMON** STARING AT ME!_

The pink blob—a Chansey, if my memory served—sat at the side of the bed, holding up a bloody mess with a cord that led to my stomach. I looked away. I didn't want to think about the slight tugging sensations around my navel. But it was too late. I couldn't deny it anymore. I had been reborn in the Pokemon world.

It was hard to grasp, but the evidence of all of my senses couldn't lie. I mentally checked out, tracking things with my eyes even as my mind wandered. I pulled apart my memories, desperately trying to remember what had happened to lead up to this point.

My name was the first thing to come back to me: William. My name had been William, Will for short. I had been on an airplane. With my sister! I had a twin sister, Julia, though everyone called her Jill. We had been on a flight together, going back to our parents' house in Vermont. Then during the flight, there had been a massive bang and then… nothing.

I struggled to reconcile this fact. I had been twenty-six, almost twenty-seven years old. Now I was a baby, only a few minutes old, but with memories of my previous life flooding back to me. I grappled with the enormity of it all.

I had died, apparently violently, and been reincarnated. Had I ever been religiously inclined, everything would have been thrown out the window. Instead, I found myself wanting to rail against the injustice of it all. Both I and my sister had died at such a young age. We barely made it past adulthood, and then we got caught up in some ridiculous accident or attack. And then she was gone.

The one person that had been a constant in my life was gone. That struck me to my core. My sister, my twin, the girl with whom I shared every moment of my life, every hope and dream, every mistake, every aspect of my time on Earth, was gone. It wasn't fair. She was supposed to have gone on to become a world-famous photographer and I… well, I would publish her adventures, obviously. But now…

I began to cry, to wail, to howl against the absolute injustice of our fates. A baby's cries echoed in my ears. We had been scattered to the cosmos and, for some godforsaken reason, I had kept my memories. This wasn't supposed to be how it happened. Or was it?

The thought quieted my tears. Was this how it happened? Were a newborn baby's cries because of the life they'd left behind? Would I eventually cease to be, slowly overwritten by the experiences of this new life? A cold chill washed over me. Would I be trapped in an endless death of the spirit? Was my sister experiencing the exact same thing?

Before I could spiral further into despair, the pair of new entrants being beckoned into the room caught my attention. More Pokemon: a Kadabra and a Machoke, if I remembered correctly. Both wore the same sterile hospital gowns as the man who apparently was my new father. They watched me with subdued excitement. Suddenly, a quiet, female voice spoke directly into my mind.

_*Welcome, little one, to-*_

The voice cut off abruptly, and the Kadabra's eyes morphed into one of shock. A blinding light flashed from her eyes, and the world froze. Nothing moved. Nothing lived. Dust motes hung motionless in air. The only thing that remained alive were the Kadabra's eyes, cold and terrifying. The voice returned to my head, but this time as hard, as sharp, and as fragile as glass.

_*Who are you?*_

If I could have gulped, I would have. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even breathe. My only recourse was to communicate with the creature on its own terms.

_I'm-_

_*A baby? No, you are not. We both know this. Do not insult me by pretending otherwise. I have peered into many an infant's mind while sitting out in that waiting room. Choose your next words very carefully.*_

If time had been flowing normally, my mouth would have gone dry.

_I… My name is William Lee Morris, and I have no idea how I got here._

The Kadabra said nothing for what felt like an eternity.

_*Explain.*_

_I just… I think I died._

Her eyes, while immobile, seemed to widen imperceptibly.

_*You what?*_

I think I died and reincarnated. I mean, I certainly didn't choose to be here.

_*Hm. We shall see.*_

Images flashed through my mind, scenes from my life replayed unbidden. Elementary, middle school, high school, college, birthdays, deaths, everything in my life on Earth that I could remember was laid bare before the psychic onslaught. I wanted to cry, to mourn the loss of everything and everyone that once I called mine. Slowly, the mental interrogation abated, but not before one last still image was burned into my memory.

A commercial plane. Rows upon rows of people. Fire. So much fire. And the brief look of alarm on Jill's face before our lives were burnt up like tissue paper.

The memories were then put away, buried in my psyche, but still fresh in my mind. I felt like a deflated balloon. My grief had no physical outlet to express itself, so it pooled, filling up my thoughts with agonizing finality. The Kadabra said nothing.

After a while, the phantom pain ebbed, leaving me hollow and weak. She spoke again then, infinitely gentler than before.

_*It seems I must apologize. You spoke truthfully, and yet I doubted you still. I am sorry, both for your loss and for your situation. Why, in Arceus' name, this has happened, I cannot say. What would you ask of me?*_

It took me a while to figure out she had asked me a question.

_What do you mean?_

_*I can offer to block out your memories, to give you a fresh start. You would be, for all intents and purposes, a true newborn. I cannot say whether the block will remain for your entire life, but so long as I am near, it will stay strong. But I will leave the choice to you. Whether you were meant to inhabit this new body or came to be here by some grand, cosmic prank, I will not speculate. Just remember that, whether you choose to remain or not, you will no longer be William Lee Morris. You will be Aiden Brookes, son of Gerald and Patricia Brookes._

_*On this, I will not budge. Patricia carried you—or the body you inhabit—for nine months. Both she and her husband have been absolutely ecstatic to meet their new child. You are that child, by fate or folly, and you will play that role well, whether by choice or by force. If, at any time, they begin to suspect that you are more than just their son, I will intervene. Patricia and Gerald are kind and gentle souls, and they deserve to love and be loved by their child. Think carefully before you answer.*_

I did so, long and hard. I thought about my own mother, or perhaps I should think of her as my first mother. There was no denying that Patricia Brookes had birthed me; I was a firsthand witness to the event, after all. But I also didn't want to forget my first mother, nor my first father, and especially not my sister. Whatever happened to her, I couldn't allow myself to forget. Whether she had ended up in a situation like mine or had been reborn normally, I couldn't say. Only God could…

God…

_Arceus is real._

_*I beg your pardon?*_

_I can talk to God! Or at least the god of this world. Arceus might be able to tell me how I ended up here!_

The Kadabra went silent. Her eyes now showed disbelief and more than a little concern.

_*... I suppose, theoretically, if you could somehow garner the attention of the creator of this Universe, yes, it would be possible.*_

_Then that's what I'll do. No matter how long it takes. I have to know._

There was another pause that felt more like the mental equivalent of a sigh.

_*Very well. So long as you do not neglect your familial duties, then I will help you, as much as I am able.*_

_I promise._

_*Well, then. Welcome to the world of Pokemon, Aiden Brookes.*_

Time resumed flowing like a broken dam. Where there had been stillness, suddenly there was movement. The Kadabra, however, had still paused in her movements the moment before she had apparently frozen time. The Machoke looked back at her, and the other humans in the room also noticed the hesitation.

"Kadie? What's wrong?" Patricia asked, concern growing in her voice. The Kadabra—Kadie, apparently—shook her head and broadcasted her thoughts.

_*Oh, nothing, Patty. Your child surprised me, that is all. Despite being a newborn, he has quite a strong mental presence. I did not mean to worry you.*_

"Oh?" Patricia pondered breathlessly. "Is that right? It seems our little bundle of joy will be quite a handful, Jer."

Gerald laughed. "Strong in mind and body, huh? Sounds like he takes after his mother."

_*I daresay he will be quite the willful young pup.*_

"Will-ful, eh?" Gerald commented. "Maybe that should be his middle name, then. Will."

"I like it," Patricia decided. "Aiden Will Brookes. Say hello, Aiden."

She gently raised my arm and gave it a little wave. I decided to add a little burble in as well. This seemed to delight everyone in attendance. I smiled back. It would take years, but eventually, I would find my answer. For now, though, I had a role to play.


End file.
